15, if a Day

The bus ride home tonight was about 3 times as long as usual. Why? You ask (ok, I'm assuming you ask). Simple. Apparently, today was the opening game for the pro-baseball team we have here in town. Suck.

As I rode through the longest 7 blocks of my life I sat crammed in the back of the bus listening in on the conversation of my fellow bus passengers (and trying hard, at points, to not). Relatively early on in the bus ride a young man got on and joined his two friends sitting next to me. "Dude! Where's your home-girl at?" He asked his buddy's girlfriend. They exchanged information back and forth before she determined who he was talking about. "Yea. Her. I'd totally do her!" (Where "do" here is a polite euphemism for the word he used which was neither polite, nor a euphemism) "Do you know how old she is?" He was quizzed. After a bit of discussion between Dude! and his girlfriend the conclusion was drawn that she is 16. Not having had the chance for a good look I assumed they were all late teens (18 or 19), and her being 16 was putting a damper on his desire to "do" her. I was wrong, "I'd still do her!" Great. I was looking forward to listening to this for the next hour.

After a bit I got bored and pulled my latest craft project out of my pocket (I'm stringing some beads for a skirt I'm making) and got to work. A few short minutes later our friend reached over and tapped my knee, "Excuse me?" He said in a nice juxtaposition from his previous dialogue, "What's that you're working on?" I looked him full in the face (quickly determining that he was 15 (at the oldest), so the 16 year old comment was that she was an "older chick", I suppose.) and told him what I was up to. His buddy turned to his girlfriend and asked, "Why don't you ever make your own clothes?" The conversation ensued. After a long while he tried talking to me again chatting me up: "You gettin' off work?"
"Yeah."
"You ride this bus every day?"
"Generally."
"Is it always this packed?"
"Not always."
"You work in Seattle?"
"Yup."
"You stayin' in Bellevue."
"Nope."
"Where you stayin'?"
"Mercer Island."
and on and on and on. Finally the bus reached my stop and I got up to leave. As I was pushing my way through the crowd I heard his buddy tell him, "Dude, she's so not into you." Uh, yeah. And, even if I were, what's he expecting: "Hi, here's my number... call me when you hit 18."? Puh-leeze.